


All the Way Home I'll Be Warm

by asexual-fandom-queen (writeordietrying)



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Couch Cuddles, F/M, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Minor Barry Allen/Iris West, Minor Barry Allen/Leonard Snart, Minor Barry Allen/Leonard Snart/Iris West, Minor Laurel Lance/Cisco Ramon, Minor Leonard Snart/Iris West, Power Outage, Singing, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:02:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeordietrying/pseuds/asexual-fandom-queen
Summary: hygge/ˈhʊɡə/,n.(Danish) the pleasant, genial, and intimate feeling associated with sitting around a fire in the winter with close friends.a prompt fill for a lovely anon on tumblr





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was mean to be a drabble but... oh well. Written for a wonderful nonnie who wanted a Mick/Felicity fic inspired by the Danish word hygge, taken from [this prompt meme](http://pansexual-fandom-queen.tumblr.com/post/155105635036/send-me-a-word-and-two-characters) on tumblr.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, nonnie, and I hope everyone else enjoys, too! If you do, let me know by leaving me kudos and comments!
> 
> Set in a world where nobody dies and everyone lives because why not? Title taken from the hit winter classic [Let It Snow](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-10fWHdpmks)

**hygge** / ˈhʊɡə /, _n._ (Danish) the pleasant, genial, and intimate feeling associated with sitting around a fire in the winter with close friends.

 

* * *

 

Felicity lifts her feet from the floor and tucks them up under her thighs. Her circulation hasn’t been the same since the shooting, and her toes feel like ice, even through the thick fleece socks Iris was kind enough to lend her.

“So, I just got off the phone with Dad,” Iris says as she pads into the West family living room. She’s in slippers, flannel PJ pants, and a S.T.A.R. Labs sweatshirt that’s two sizes too big that must belong to Barry.

Barry, whose arm comes up to wrap around Iris’ hips and guide her down onto his lap. Iris smiles, soft and bright, and brushes a stray strand of hair off Barry’s forehead and back into place.

“He’s stuck at the lab with Wally and Caitlin,” Iris continues. “They didn’t realize how bad the roads were getting.”

“That sucks,” Barry says, frowning. “I feel bad for them.”

Cisco scoffs. “I don’t.”

Barry and Iris shoot him twin judgemental looks.

“What?” Cisco defends. “At least S.T.A.R. Labs has a backup generator.” He says it through chattering teeth, and Felicity can’t tell if Cisco is being sincere or just trying to guilt-trip his friends. The power’s only been off for a half an hour, but it is getting cold, especially since it’s after dark. Candlelight is nice for the ambiance but does nothing to regulate temperature.  

“Here.”

Cisco jumps as Laurel appears behind him, reaching around the back of his chair and passing him a heavy patchwork quilt. “It was right where you said it would be,” Laurel tells Iris with a smile, then turns back to Cisco and her smile changes to a smirk. “As long as you don’t mind sharing,” she adds.

Cisco stammers. “I- No, I don’t mind sharing at all,” he says, flushed and flustered. He scoots to the right to leave Laurel space to climb onto the armchair beside him. She does, then fans the blanket out over their laps.

“I finally got in touch with Oliver,” Laurel continues, holding Felicity’s eyes so she knows Laurel’s speaking to her. “The connection was spotty, but he and the rest of Team Arrow know where we are and that we’re okay.”

“Great,” Felicity says with a nod, but she’s soon distracted by what’s going on just in front of her. “How’s the fire coming?” she asks.

Mick grunts. “Slower than with my gun,” he replies, turning his attention from the kindling he’s stacking over a crumpled tower of newspaper to the general direction of the kitchen.

As if on cue, Leonard enters carrying three huge novelty mugs -- Santa, an elf, and a reindeer. “Needed your gun to make cocoa,” he drawls, completely unapologetic. He stops by the armchair Barry and Iris are settled in and smirks down at them.

“You got mini marshmallow,” Leonard says.

Barry shrugs. “It was brought to my attention that I needed them.”

Barry’s smile is coy and flirtatious as Leonard passes him the Santa mug, and Felicity almost feels uncomfortable watching until she notices that Barry’s free hand hasn’t stopped tracing patterns against Iris’ thigh, and when Leonard passes Iris the elf mug, their fingers brush and she offers him a similar coquettish grin.

Felicity wonders about what’s going on there, but also never wants to think about it again.

“Why doesn’t anyone else get hot chocolate?” Cisco whines as Leonard takes a seat on the far end of the couch, leaving space between himself and Felicity, close to Barry and Iris.

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “Kitchen’s thirty feet away, Ramon,” he says.

Cisco groans. “Fine,” he grumbles. “But I’ll remember this for the next time we’re back to being enemies again.”

He shuffles awkwardly out of his overcrowded armchair after asking Laurel and Felicity if they want cocoa too. Both, obviously, do. While he’s gone, the fire finally begins flickering to life in the hearth and Mick sits back on his heels with an appreciative nod.

“Ain’t that a beauty,” he whispers, almost to himself, and Felicity can’t help but agree. Not about the fire, but about Mick.

Felicity’s not sure when it started, exactly. During the whole mess with the Dominators, she managed to develop… feelings for Mick. And sure, at first those feelings may simply have been idle curiosity over whether or not he could do the salmon ladder and a burning desire to _climb him like a tree_. Felicity’s willing to admit that she has a type, and jacked, cantankerous, and dubiously moral is most definitely it.

But it’s become more than that, too. Since the Dominators, all four superhero teams have been spending a lot more time together, Mick, Sara, and Leonard especially in Star City with Team Arrow. Felicity’s gotten to know Mick as a person, gotten to see how loyal he is, and funny, and charming, and fiercely protective. He’s even smart, remarkably so, great with tech and figuring out how to use it, even if he can’t build it like she and Curtis can.

Whenever Mick leaves, Felicity wishes he’d stay. Leonard and Sara, too. She can’t work out what any of them are still doing on the Waverider, playing self-righteous Time Police like they aren’t some of the best criminals to ever live. Leave being a hero to people like Ray and Nate. Heat Wave, Captain Cold, and White Canary would make much better vigilantes.

But that’s just Felicity’s opinion.

Finally, Mick adds a few full-sized logs to the fire and moves to the only seat that’s still free, the spot on the couch just to Felicity’s right between her and Leonard. The cushions dip under Mick’s weight, and Felicity’s arm knocks gently into his side. She tries not to blush but knows instantly she’s failed, though she’d probably be able to blame it on being tired, or cold, or the heat from the fire. Or maybe, hopefully, it’s just too dark to see.

“What are we even gonna do until the power comes back on?” Cisco asks as he comes back into the living room with three more steaming mugs of cocoa. He passes one to Felicity on his way by, then pauses as he looks at Mick, then the cocoa he’s carrying, then back at Mick.

“Did you want…” Cisco begins asking reluctantly, clearly very against the idea of running back to the kitchen, but Mick shakes his head.

“I’m not a chocolate person,” he says.

Cisco’s nearly sighs in relief, and he moves to the armchair to pass one of the remaining mugs to Laurel before Mick can change his mind. Then, Cisco glances over at the piano tucked against the back wall and turns to Barry.

“Hey, is that thing still in tune?” Cisco asks, pulling Barry from his quiet conversation with Leonard and Iris.

Barry frowns. “It should be,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know. No one’s played it in a while, but how often do you have to tune a piano anyway?”

“More often than you need to tune a fish,” Leonard drawls, and Barry and Iris both groan, but it sounds so damn fond, Felicity’s sure now she’s not wrong about something going on between the three of them.

Cisco makes a beeline for the piano as Iris and Barry continue to tease Leonard and Felicity sits in tense, awkward silence with Mick. It’s probably not tense and awkward for him, Felicity thinks, just her, who deals with all her anxiety by babbling but doesn’t want to embarrass herself in front of him, so she’s keeping it all bottled up instead, which can’t be healthy.

Suddenly, Mick nudges against Felicity’s shoulder. When she glances up at him, he’s smirking at her in that dumb, cheeky way of his that sets off butterflies in Felicity’s stomach. He holds out a small, metal flask.

“You want any, Ponytail?” he asks, his voice rough and scratchy in a way that has all Felicity’s butterflies migrating South for the winter, so to speak.

Felicity chews her lower lip as she tries to get her brain back online, the sound of Cisco running scales in the background more distracting than she expected them to be. “What is is?” Felicity asks finally.

“Fireball,” Mick replies, giving the flask a gentle shake, enough for Felicity to hear the liquid slosh around inside. “‘Tis the season.”

Felicity considers it for another moment, then nods. “Yeah, okay,” she says. “Why not?” She takes the flask from Mick’s hand and unscrews the top, then takes a short, quick sip that still makes her wince.

“Oh, that’s like, double the burn,” Felicity complains, trying to suppress a cough.

Mick smirks at her, hot and heavy, and it feels like there’s intent behind the look. “And here I thought you might like a little fire, doll,” Mick says.

Felicity flushes bright, bright red. “Just promise me that if I get too sloppy you won’t let me choke on my own vomit,” she replies, which is… way less sexy than what she was going for.

But Mick chuckles fondly and drapes an arm over the back of the couch in a way that could either be casual or an invitation for Felicity to lean in and whispers, “don’t worry. You’re in good hands,” which makes Felicity feel a whole lot better about weaving puke into the conversation. Mick takes the flask from her hand and a spike of heat shoots through Felicity’s body as their fingers brush.

Before Felicity can say or do anything stupid in response, Laurel’s voice shatters the moment as effortlessly as glass. “I didn’t know you played piano,” she says to Cisco.

“My brother may be the prodigy,” Cisco replies. “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

Then, Cisco picks a melody out on the keys that Felicity recognizes instantly, and she perks up in her seat with a smile.

“ _Oh, the weather outside is frightful_ ,” Cisco sings.

“ _But the fire is so delightful_ ,” Barry sings back. Iris chuckles against his neck and Cisco shoots him a broad, excited grin, his eyebrows jumping nearly into his hairline.

“ _And since we’ve no place to go,_ ” they croon together. “ _Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!_ ”

As the the next verse starts, Iris, Laurel, Felicity, and Leonard join in. Felicity’s a bit off key, but she can’t really bring herself to care, smiling and swaying to the sound of the piano and her friends’ voices coming together in harmony. Mick is tense against Felicity’s side, so she tilts her head to look up at him, her brows knit in concern. Mick is already watching her, his expression inscrutable, and Felicity flashes him a soft, subdued smile.

“I really like this song,” she offers when Mick remains silent. “It’s one of the only ones Christmas hasn’t rubbed its greedy little hands all over.”

Mick frowns and Felicity chuckles. “I’m Jewish,” she says.

“Oh,” Mick replies.

They’re quiet again as the others continue to sing. The silence is more companionable than before, but Mick still seems uncertain. It feels like he’s on the edge of something, and Felicity, though not usually a patient women, is more than willing to wait him out.

“Happy Hanukkah,” Mick says finally. Not what she was expecting, or perhaps hoping for, but it’s still nice.

Felicity smiles. “Thanks,” she replies. The look in Mick’s eyes makes her heart stutter in her chest and she struggles to draw in her next breath.

It isn’t until Felicity breaks eye contact to admire the fire roaring in the hearth and leans purposefully against Mick’s side that Mick finally relaxes. His arm moves from the couch to wrap around her shoulder, and Felicity hides her manic grin behind her mug as she takes another sip of cocoa. The melted layer of marshmallows coats her upper lip in sticky sweet foam, and she feels the heat Mick’s eyes on her as she licks it away, a delightful shiver running up her spine.

“ _When we finally kiss goodnight,_ _how I hate going out in the storm_ ,” the group continues, and Felicity smiles as she leans her head against Mick’s shoulder. She couldn’t ask for a better time to jump back into the song, not with a cocktail of cocoa and Fireball settling low in her stomach and the heat Mick’s body pressed against her like a furnace.

“ _But if you really hold me tight_ ,” Felicity joins in. “ _All the way home I’ll be warm_.”  

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://asexual-fandom-queen.tumblr.com/)


End file.
